


Facing the Demons

by bettycoopergal



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fix-It, post-2.08, there will be bughead, there will be communication, there will be tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:28:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12953328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettycoopergal/pseuds/bettycoopergal
Summary: Betty, still grieving her breakup with Jughead, finds out about his hookup with Toni and gets kissed by Archie. But she's done being sad. Now, she's angry.Post-2.08 fix-it fic with a happy ending, in two acts.





	1. Chapter 1

“Betty…”

After being lulled into her own headspace by the warm fire, Betty is snapped out of her thoughts by Archie’s voice coming from the other side of the couch.

“Hmm?” she questions, still looking into the flames. The room is quiet. Normally Betty likes a little silence, but here it seems so out of place. It’s like the quiet is mocking her, echoing back the emptiness she feels in her heart. It’s been two weeks since Jughead told her to go home at FP’s non-retirement party, and she’s felt broken ever since. _Until it sticks_. His words keep haunting her. It’s like her mind has turned against her, and now it’s just waiting for her to crack.

To make matters worse, Southside High closed down for renovations last week, so all of the students have been attending Riverdale temporarily. But, of course, Betty hasn’t seen Jughead even here, and she can’t help but feel like he’s purposely avoiding her.

Truthfully, Betty didn’t even know that their argument that night would actually be the end of their relationship. She foolishly texted him a dozen times the next day, only to receive no replies and the abundantly clear message that what they had was now over. It completely devastated her. But she held onto the hope that he still loved her, that he was taking the time he needed to pull away from his own darkness so that they could be together again.

But then, on the first day the Southsiders came to Riverdale, she had a run-in with Toni that completely shattered that hope. Jughead must not have told her about their breakup, because she was all sincerity when she apologized to her for their “meaningless hookup.” Betty’s world was turned upside-down. She didn’t let it show, though. She put on that perfect Cooper smile and told Toni that there was nothing to be worried about, that she could explore whatever feelings she wanted to with Jughead now because he was a free man.

She hasn’t seen Toni since, and she’s glad. Betty knows that she meant what she said about the hookup being meaningless, but she doesn’t know if it was meaningless to Jughead. Because if it was, then why wouldn’t he have told her about it? They could have worked through it together. But now, instead, they are walking the same halls but a million miles apart.

Did Jughead ever really love her in the first place?

It’s been bothering her all week. Surely he did, Betty thinks. She’s trying not to let recent memories drown out all the good ones—the warmth of his body snuggling her close, the rough touch of his hands wiping away her tears, the quiet declarations of love that were reserved only for her.

But it’s hard. It’s hard to not feel like the rug has been pulled out from underneath her, like she’s been tricked. If Jughead lied about something as important as a hookup with Toni, then what else did he lie about?

But Betty tries not to go there, because she knows it’s just her insecurities getting to her. She doesn’t have much hope left that she and Jughead will ever be together again, but she can at least find peace in believing that what they had was real.

Now, it’s the last day of school before the Christmas break, and Betty has to sit here with Archie like her world isn’t crumbling. Just moments ago, they exchanged gifts; she gave him a Giants cap, and he gave her a book that Jughead no doubt helped him pick out when they were still together. But the presents felt meaningless to Betty without their friends there. Without Jughead and his sardonic quips about the meaninglessness of Christmas traditions, without Veronica and her decadent holiday-themed cupcakes. After her fall out with Archie, Veronica pushed Betty away too, saying she needed space from the whole situation. Their little group is broken, and now it’s just Betty and Archie yet again. It all feels so hollow.

“I…” Archie trails off. Betty can feel the intensity of his gaze, so finally she looks up at him. She swallows at his expression. His eyes are soft and vulnerable, and he looks… he looks just like he did when he’d started to say that awful thing weeks ago: _A little part of me always thought_ …

Betty is more than slightly worried now. She spent the whole day with Archie yesterday sleuthing around and trying to figure out the identity of the Black Hood, which was already hard enough because the whole thing felt so wrong without Jughead by her side. But she did it because she had no one else to turn to, and because she knew that Archie was hurting from his breakup with Vernoica just like she was. She wanted them to bond over their heartbreak, as best friends and mutual supporters. But now he’s looking at her like this—like he’s about to screw everything up—and she wants to run away before he can say anything.

As if sensing her thoughts, Archie reaches out and gently grabs her arm, holding her in place. “I… You have to forgive me, Betty,” he says.

“For what, Arch?” she asks, although she doesn’t really want to know where this is going.

“For… Veronica. For not realizing what I had with you until it was gone.”

Betty knows her expression isn’t pleasant. She’s sure it’s a mixture of disgust and anger and disappointment, but Archie has always had a hard time reading her, so she knows that she’s going to have to spell it out for him.

“Archie, no. Don’t be an idiot.”

His hand recoils from her arm as if it’s been burned, and he looks at her like she’s just slapped him. “I’m not being an idiot, Betty. We’re both single now, and… Why can’t we give this a shot? It was meant to be from kindergarten, practically.”

Betty shakes her head in open disbelief. Who does he think he is? She ought to punch him in the face for what he’s doing to Veronica, for what he’s doing to Jughead. She knows he’s usually clueless, but this is too much. This is too cruel.

“I love Jughead,” she says simply, wanting to cut to the chase and end this conversation as quickly as possible. Archie looks at her like he’s expecting her to continue, so she adds a “not you” for good measure. Maybe it’s a little harsh, but she can’t believe how insensitive he’s being right now.

Archie doesn’t react to her words. He just sits there with the same expression, and his eyes dart once from her eyes down to her lips. Betty’s heart skips a beat. He wouldn’t, would he? 

Before she has time to react, Archie’s lips are on hers, and his hands are cradling the back of her head. His fingers are threading through her hair, and she feels the walls closing in on her.

Betty shoves him away as hard as she can, standing up from the couch in one fluid motion. She looks at him, tears already flowing freely from her eyes, and she doesn’t even know what to say.

“I hate you,” she finally whispers, not even sure in the moment that’s what she actually feels. She just wants to hurt him like he’s hurting his friends, wants him to feel the pain that’s overwhelming her right now. Without a second glance, Betty is out the door. She doesn’t know where she’s going, and the tears in her eyes are blurring her vision. She needs some space to breathe.

Betty’s feet instinctively take her to the Blue and Gold room, which is currently unoccupied while people take their mid-morning break elsewhere. She slams the door behind her and walks to her desk chair, sinking into it slowly.

She stares at the wall and wipes the tears from her face blankly. In that moment, Betty decides that she is done being sad. Now, she wants to be angry. Carefully, she picks up the stapler on her desk and weighs it in her hand. Without a second thought, she chucks it across the room and into the wall.

The sound it makes when it slams into the concrete is satisfying, but not nearly satisfying enough. Betty sighs, slumping even further into her chair. How has her life turned into this? Not too long ago she was telling her boyfriend that she loved him, and now what? Now, she’s broken his heart, and he’s broken hers. Now, his best friend has kissed her. Now, she can’t be with the only boy she’s ever truly loved, because this stupid town and its evils have won.

 _Bullshit_ , Betty thinks.

She stands up abruptly, gathering her things, but then there’s a hesitant knock on the door. Betty rolls her eyes, practically seething at this point. “Archie, leave me alone!” she yells.

When the door cracks open a few inches, Betty lets out a quiet gasp.

There, poking his head through the gap with an unreadable expression, is Jughead Jones.

Her heart goes completely still.


	2. Chapter 2

Jughead leans his head through the gap between the door and the frame. “It’s just me,” he says.

Betty nods, unable to form actual words. She was so wound up earlier that her body now doesn’t know what to do with the tension. She fights the urge to clench her fists and straightens her posture so much that it hurts. Jughead takes the hint from her silence and walks into the room, closing the door behind him.

For a second, they just stare at each other. Betty feels the fight in her completely evaporate as she thinks about just how much has changed between them. Her body slackens, and her shoulders sag. For the first time, she feels completely resigned—maybe she should have given up a long time ago. If she had known that it would hurt this much just to see him, that it would end in this much pain, would she still have fought for him? Would she still have given him so much of herself? Would she still have let herself love him?

Of course, the answer is still yes.

“Betts—.”  
  
“Don’t,” Betty cuts him off. “Don’t call me that, please.” She averts her eyes to the ground and wills away the tears that are re-forming.

Jughead is staring at her, and she can feel the hurt in his gaze, even if she can’t bring herself to see it. “Okay,” he says quietly.

He walks over to her and hands her a small, neatly-wrapped present that she didn’t notice he was holding before. Betty glances up at him now and has to stop herself from reaching out to him when she sees how anxious he looks. “It’s that dress you said you loved,” Jughead tells her. “You never buy stuff like that for yourself, so I bought it for you. And I still wanted to give it to you, even though…” he trails off, and an awkward silence settles over them.

When she doesn’t respond, he turns to walk toward the door. But as he places his hand on the handle, he stops and turns around. “Betty?” he asks, his voice unsure. 

“Yeah?” she manages to choke out.

Jughead looks at her and swallows once, clearly wrestling with his words. “Why did you sound so mad earlier, when you thought I was Archie?”

Betty blinks, completely shocked. After everything they’ve been through, this is the one thing he chooses to say to her? She doesn’t know why, but this—this simple question—is what does it. In a matter of seconds, the anger comes flooding back, and she clenches her fists so hard that she’s sure blood will be dripping down her hands in no time. Jughead’s eyes immediately dart downward at the movement, and his expression is so pained that it physically hurts Betty’s heart. But she ignores the stab in her chest, because she’s not letting him off the hook.

“You want to know why, Jughead?” she snaps. He dips his head backward ever so slightly, clearly taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. “You want to know why I’m mad at Archie?” she presses on. “I’ll tell you why. Because he kissed me, tried to tell me that he wanted us to have a real shot together.”

The color completely drains from Jughead’s face. He looks so fragile in that moment, and all Betty wants to do is look away, but she can’t back down now. She stares at him, her jaw clenched and her fists burrowed in her crossed arms.

After a moment, the hurt in his eyes turns a shade darker, and color returns to his features in full force. “I’m glad you two finally found each other, then,” he spits out. His gaze is steely, and it brings her right back to the way he looked at her when she was up on stage at the Whyte Wyrm. Then, it made her feel small, like she was a child being reprimanded. But now, it fuels her anger so much that she wants to find another object to throw at the wall.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she says in a venomously quiet tone. The darkness in Jughead’s eyes fades a little, replaced by surprise. But then it returns in full force, and he crosses his arms to mimic hers as if to say he’s ready for a fight.

“No, Betty, why would I be kidding?” he yells. “You were only pining after him _forever_ before we got together, and you fucking sent him to break up with me for Christ’s sake! What am I supposed to think?”

Betty laughs, shaking her head back and forth. “Oh, that’s rich. So we’re going there, are we?” she says, pulling up a chair from behind her and slamming herself into it. “Well, come on then, let’s go there. You want to bring up the Black Hood now, hold it over my head when you _actually_ broke up with me _for real_ two weeks ago? Sure, yeah, let’s do that.” 

Jughead glares at her, but she keeps going. “I sent Archie to break up with you because I was _completely wrecked_ , Jughead! I was so distraught that if I even thought about you for more than two seconds, I would dig my nails into my palms so hard that blood would stain my clothes. I thought the Black Hood was going to _kill_ you. I couldn’t take the chance of coming to see you when I knew you’d see right through me!”

He responds as soon as she’s finished, shouting just as loudly. “That doesn’t negate the fact that it fucking hurt, Betty! Archie said that you’d been considering dumping me for weeks, how was I supposed to feel? You _knew_ I felt insecure about him when it came to you. You _knew_ that!” he breathes heavily for a few beats, calming himself down. “And now look,” he says quietly. “I was right, wasn’t I? The all-American boy and the girl next door finally get their shot.”

Betty wants to wipe the bitter smirk he gives her right off his face. “If you think for one second that I would _ever_ consider him, consider _anyone_ for that matter, when I’ve told you time and time again that all I wanted was _you_ , then wow. You must think I’m a pretty terrible person,” she barks.

She thinks about Toni then, and she feels a pain deep in her side that makes her want to lie down and give up.

To his credit, Jughead immediately uncrosses his arms and pulls the nearest chair toward him, sinking into it. The tension drains from his body, along with the anger. He discards his beanie onto the floor, drops his head into his hands, and runs his fingers through his hair. “Betts,” he says, his voice muffled.

“What did I say about calling me that?” she asks sharply, although some of the bite has dissipated from her tone.

Jughead doesn’t respond, and Betty thinks for a second that maybe he’s not actually going to say anything. But then he looks up at her, and she feels a jolt run through her body as she sees the tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says. She can’t tell what exactly he’s apologizing for—if it’s for Toni, if it’s for assuming the worst about her and Archie, or if it’s just for everything in general. But she knows he’s being sincere.

Jughead looks as though he’s about to say more, but for some reason Betty suddenly can’t bear the thought of him continuing. If he apologizes for the things he’s done, if he tells her what happened with Toni, then it will all become too real. She’ll finally have to accept that the damage is done, that maybe there are too many obstacles to overcome.

“I’m mad, Jughead,” she whispers, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Her body is shaking now, and her chest is tight. For the first time in weeks, Betty feels like she has an opportunity to be honest—to release everything she’s been bottling up.

So she speaks, the words flowing out of her mouth so quickly that she doesn’t even have time to process them. “I’m mad that you told me to go home that night, that I put myself out there for you and you cut me off, not even telling me why.” As she talks, her voice grows stronger and louder. “I’m mad that you stopped talking to me, that you started avoiding me, like the second I got up on that stage you suddenly couldn’t look at me anymore.” She knows that her words probably sting. And, on some level, she knows that her insecurities about the Whyte Wyrm incident are just that—insecurities. But she needs him to know, because she’s bent on being completely honest right now, that it’s something she’s been struggling with ever since she left that night.

“I’m mad at how selfish and self-destructive Archie was when he kissed me, how he single-handedly ruined the only real friendship I had left standing. I’m mad because I had to push him away, just like Veronica pushed me away in her pain, just like you pushed me away…” She pauses, the tears flowing freely now. She swallows and tries to regain her composure.

“I’m mad,” she says much more calmly after a minute, “because I had to hear about your ‘meaningless hookup’ with Toni from her and not you, because I trusted you with my darkness and you… you lied to me.” For the first time, Betty breaks eye contact with Jughead and looks to the floor. She feels so vulnerable, and it reminds her of that night at Pop’s when she showed him her scars.

Jughead is crying now too, she knows, because she can see him wiping his face out of her peripheral vision. But, as much as she wants to stop, Betty knows she can’t. She has to get it off her chest, and she has to do it now. “I’m mad that no matter how hard I try, no matter how many times I keep picturing you two together just to punish myself…” She chokes on the last word a little, and she hears Jughead whisper her name in desperation. “…I can’t stop myself from loving you.”

The room is silent. Betty finally looks up at him and feels another stab of pain shoot through her as she sees the tears openly rolling down his cheeks.

“Betty, I…” he says, his voice cracking on her name. “I’m so fucking sorry. For all of it.”

Now she’s unabashedly crying, the anger completely gone and replaced with aching. He lets her break down, doesn’t reach out to comfort her probably because he knows it’s not his place right now. He waits until she’s calmed down and the tears have stopped flowing before he keeps going.

“With Toni, it... It didn’t mean anything,” he says, “except for that I’m a complete idiot.”

Betty chuckles a little through her tears despite herself. It’s a glimpse of the Jughead she used to know. The corners of his mouth lift slightly at her laugh, but they quickly turn downward again. “I was so numb, Betty. I just wanted to feel something. It’s a sorry excuse, but it’s what happened. I hated myself for it, too. I’ve been hating myself for it ever since.”

After a beat of silence, Betty stands up and drags her chair across the room to place it next to Jughead’s. She sits, resting a hand on his shoulder. He tenses a little under her touch, but then he relaxes, and she feels more relief than she has in weeks. “Is that why you lied about it, Jug?” she asks. 

He meets her eyes, and the look on his face is tender, like she’s given him something meaningful by calling him by his shortened name. “I hated myself so much that I couldn’t imagine you wouldn’t hate me too, if you knew. And I was selfish. I didn’t want to give you up. You loving me has been the only thing keeping me afloat for a long time now, Betty.”

Forgiveness floods through her body, and all she wants to do is hold him close to her and tell him how amazing he really is. But Betty knows that there’s more they need to talk about, so she settles for something simpler. “I could never hate you,” she says. "And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way."

Jughead gives her that look again, like she’s given him everything. But, as much as she wants to melt into him, they’re still technically broken up. They haven’t even addressed the main reason they’re in this situation in the first place. “We need to talk about what happened at the Whyte Wyrm, Jug,” she says softly, moving her hand from his shoulder to his leg and giving it a gentle squeeze.

He sighs, and Betty suddenly feels anxious. If Jughead still wants her to stay away from him, then this will be their last conversation before they go their separate ways. She will finally have to accept that it’s over. 

“My dad…” Jughead starts, looking past her to a spot on the wall. Betty doesn’t know what she expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t this. She reaches up to touch his face, pulling his gaze back to her. She nods, encouraging him.

“At the retirement party, when my dad said he wasn’t quitting the Serpents? Well, it wasn’t because he had a sudden change of heart. He’d learned some… new information… and was trying to protect me.” Betty tries to keep the shock out of her features. She doesn’t want to disrupt his sudden honesty.

“What new information?” she asks, prompting him to continue.

“Look Betty, I screwed up. Bad,” he says, and Betty can feel tears threatening to spill over again.

“Just tell me, Juggie,” she says, the nickname slipping out before she has the chance to stop it. He lets out a small gasp that’s laced with pain and… something else. 

“I made a deal with the devil to get my dad out of jail, and it came back to bite me,” he says. “I’m being blackmailed, Betts.” She doesn’t correct him at the name this time.

“With what?” she asks, afraid to know the answer.

He swallows and slowly lifts a hand to place it over hers on his cheek. “You,” he whispers.

Suddenly, everything makes sense to Betty—the way Jughead reacted to her at the bar, how worried he looked when he was telling her to go home. She should have realized. It’s the same thing that she did when the Black Hood was threatening her. He wanted to protect her, and this was the only way he knew how. 

“No,” she says much more loudly than she intended. Jughead jumps in his seat a little, surprised. She pulls her hand from his face and reaches out to grab both of his. “No,” she says again, firmly. “We’re not doing this anymore, Jug. This town is dangerous—there’s a killer on the loose, there’s a civil war going on—, but it’s not going to stop being dangerous just because we’re broken up. Being apart isn’t going to protect either of us from Riverdale’s problems, Juggie. The only thing it’s going to do is make us miserable.” All the pain and sadness she’s been feeling the past few weeks is now replaced with sheer determination. Betty is done playing games.

“But I did some things I’m not proud of Betty, and they have evidence of that too. I’m on a bad road right now. I don’t want to drag you down with me,” Jughead says, gripping her hands.

“Juggie,” she says, a soft smile on her lips. “I love you, but you need to shut up.”

His mouth falls open, and he can’t seem to find the words to respond. She giggles.

“I _love_ you,” she says, pouring her entire soul into the words this time. “I want to _be_ with you, even if it means trouble, even if it means yelling at each other sometimes, even if it means we make mistakes. I don’t want to face any of this without you anymore.”

The look Jughead gives her is the same one he wore the night they visited FP’s trailer for the first time and she told him she believed in him. It’s pure adoration, and it makes Betty’s heart flutter in a way that she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Betty Cooper,” he says, fighting a smile. “I love you so damn much, you know that?”

It’s all she needs. She crashes her lips into his, running her fingers through the hair that she’s missed so much. His hands go instinctively to her waist, and she’s jumped from her chair to his lap before she knows what’s happening.

It’s beautiful and raw and _real_ , and Betty can hardly believe that it’s happening. Her heart swells.

Suddenly, Jughead pulls back to look at her. “You’re crying,” he says, clearly concerned. Betty reaches a hand to her cheek and feels the wetness there, surprised.

“Oh,” she says. “I guess I’m just… really happy.”

At that, Jughead smiles—a true, genuine smile that she knows he only reserves for her. He grips her arms and looks into her eyes. “Can we make a pact, Betts?” he asks. 

“Sure Juggie.” She grins at the humorous twinkle in his eyes.

“Let’s never break up to protect each other ever again.”

Betty laughs, pulling him into a hug. When he embraces her, she can feel his breath through her hair, and it’s the most comforting thing she could ever hope for.

“I can do you one better,” she whispers. She can feel his heart beating against her chest. “How about we don’t break up for _anything_ ever again?”

She can feel him smile against her hair.

“I think that can be arranged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that took an emotional toll. Honestly, I could have written so much more. These two just have a ton of things they need to talk about, and it's insane that the show hasn't addressed a single one of them! I hope this was a satisfying ending, because I was completely overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter. You guys are the best. I hope this soothes the soul a little.
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this, let me know what you think! Strap in for some healthy (and loud) communication next chapter.


End file.
